Wreckless Kids In The Meadow Poem by Shaquay Spencer

There it goes again
Coming undone
Like shoe strings
But feeling like stitches being ripped open
Icy shards covering what is left
Pricking away like the needle of a tattoo gun
Becoming the color of poison
There what use to be lies no more
No longer a place of love
But rather a graveyard of loss
Where loves goes and takes it last breath
And lies down to accept death
You'll find on the tombstones
Names of old past loves and withered roses
For I no longer visit anymore
And inside the graveyard you'll find
a shiver of cold always seems to slip inside
There goes that earth shattering shiver
That shiver is merely a reminder of what'happens when you let kids
come play in a secret meadow
So loo around my friend and take in what you see
You see desolate icy dark and gloom
But that's what happens when you let
the guardian of the meadow take a break
Anyone can slip in and destroy the precious garden
And the garden becomes a wasteland
A mere shell of its former self
And all people see now is a graveyard
Never mind its former life
Never mind its history and story
They only focus on what is
But to fully understand what is
You have to understand what was
Before this graveyard
Was something beautiful and vivacious
Thrived with life and wellness
Something so happy
And then came the wreckless kids
Not understanding beauty and fragility
And now this remains of what use to be
A beautiful meadow with no guardian